A dramatic re-telling of last Friday, by Tricia D. Picture it: One grouchy, emotionally charged girlfriend. One man slice trying not to say the wrong things. Fog and wind. Holiday weekend.... Me: This week was no good. And it's freezing in SF. I changed my mind about being OK with staying local. I desperately want to get the eff out of this city. B: Yea, I love this city, but it is effing cold. What are you thinking? Me: Luxury. B: That sounds expensive... Me: I don't care. I NEED THIS. B (backing away slowly): OK, but we were just talking about saving money.... Me (eye twitching): Right, yea, no, yea except I don't care. One day. One day of luxury. ONEDAYOFLUXURYINTHESUN. I beg. B (a quick learner): Sounds good! And so, to Indian Springs we trekked, massage appointments made and sunscreen slathered on for a bit of mineral water poolside fun. It was precisely what the PMS doctor ordered. Side note: I normally dislike this quick and stereotypical excuse for female mood fluctuations, especially when used as an insult by a male...but in this particular case? 100% accurate. Hormone crazy brain like whoa. Men, truly, have no idea what it's like to feel this way once a month, for reasons that science or God or nature or the Universe dictates. And by "this way" I obviously mean: The facilities were beautiful, clean, and oh so peaceful at this schmancy joint. I could feel my mood shift the minute we stepped out of the car. Ahhh, luxury. How deeply you heal me. Here is how B looked, floating around like a Giorgio Armani cologne advertisement... And here's how I looked, trying to wiggle myself onto the float without falling in (for the 5th time)... This difference in "cool" is so annoying, but I'll save that breakdown for another post.
Anyway, Indian Springs rocks, and you should totally visit sometime. I will gladly go back with you, and I promise I am an absolute delight when I'm here, full moon or not :) In Gratitude, Trish
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"We are more than the worst thing that's ever happened to us. All of us need to stop apologizing for having been to hell and come back breathing." - Clementine von Radics Even though it has only been 8 years since graduation, college feels like forever ago for me.
Like....another lifetime kind of forever ago. This is undoubtedly because my life has so drastically changed since my days in rural State College, PA. I am no longer in touch with most of my old crew for various reasons, my college sweetheart and I (i.e. the guy that defined the majority of my collegiate dating days) split several years ago, and I quite literally live on the other side of the continent now...in a major city...with a dude I've known since my high school YMCA days. It's all so different for a plethora of entirely unexpected or predictable reasons. *I* am so different. There's no script, amirite? But there is one aspect of my PSU experience that has remained a constant in the past 8 years, that time and space have failed to deter. If I am completely honest -- it's the most important aspect to sustain. Basically (and dramatically), if my entire Penn State affiliation was going down in flames, of all other memories, contacts, connections...this would be the one to rush in and save. We shared a room for 4 years, but this gal has my heart forever. Both Cali girls now, Ashley and I enjoyed a quick weekend reunion in her adorable beach cottage located in the darling sea side town of San Clemente. There were early morning coffee talks (very early, since my old roomie cannot sleep past 6am to save her life, God bless her and God give me strength), sun and surfer filled afternoons at the shore, naps (because of said early mornings + my grandma status + God did not give me enough strength) and most importantly, one beautiful Sarah McLachlan concert at the Greek Theater in LA where everyone assumed we were "partners" and we didn't try to deny it. I am so thankful for the freedom to hop on a plane to see my dear friend; to be happy just being with this person, no matter what our days activities. To have someone to go a tiny bit nutty with while stuck in LA traffic and then find the humor in the nutty and gratitude to be stuck on a highway together. When my children head off to college someday (if they choose college, and I surely hope they do/no pressure but FOR THE GLORY!) I will say a million and one prayers the Universe has their backs in the random roommate assignment department, like it did for me. love and light and all the best Sarah lyrics (because she still sings to my angst-y teenage soul), Trish "Oh my God, what if you wake up some day, and you’re 65, or 75, and you never got your memoir or novel written; or you didn’t go swimming in warm pools and oceans all those years because your thighs were jiggly and you had a nice big comfortable tummy; or you were just so strung out on perfectionism and people-pleasing that you forgot to have a big juicy creative life, of imagination and radical silliness and staring off into space like when you were a kid? It’s going to break your heart. Don’t let this happen." |
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